La Tumba
by Caretaker13
Summary: Set after the events of the graphic novel No Way Back and before issue #3 of the 2015 Bizarro comic, this fic tells the tale of how El Papagayo ran from Death when she finally came calling for him. Special guest appearance by Gentleman Ghost. *contains spoilers for No Way Back*
1. Chapter 1

**La Tumba**

Late 1800's

The criminal, El Papagayo, was dead in the town of Heaven's Gate, Colorado.

His lifeless body lay in the street where it had fallen after the legendary Jonah Hex had slit his throat with his own knife. His blood, which was still trickling from the gaping wound, pooled underneath him and turned the dirt into thick, dark mud.

The town's people, who were all bible-thumping pacifists, ignored the body, instead focusing their attention on Hex, the hero who had saved their town from the notorious bandito and his gang.

Only one soul payed any attention to poor El Papagayo's corpse and that was El Papagayo himself. His blueish-white ghost stood above his own body and looked down on it forlornly.

"Oh, you poor fool. To let yourself be bested by that gringo, Jonah Hex," El Papagayo said to himself. He hung his head in shame.

"Them's the breaks," said a woman's voice, and El Papagayo looked up sharply to see a beautiful senorita in a black, lacy dress standing nearby. She also wore black, velvet gloves and a red rose in her ebony hair. She was inhumanly pale, but not transparent like he was, and under one of her eyes was painted a black swirl, giving her the eye of Horus. She was Death, or as El Papayago knew her, Santa Muerte.

"I know who you are," El Papagayo said to her.

"Good, then you know why I'm here," said Death.

"You mean to take me to the land of the dead, no doubt," said El Papagayo. It was not said in fear, only in fact.

"Yes, to the land of the remembered, specifically," said Death.

El Papagayo laughed a nasty laugh. "Yes, the world will not soon forget El Papagayo, I theenk," he said. "Although the memories will not be so happy."

"Not really my concern," said Death, indifferently. "I'm just the ferryman."

El Papagayo sneered at Death. "Well, puta, you will, unfortunately, not find a passenger in me today."

"If you're thinking of running from me," Death said evenly, "I'd rethink it."

El Papagayo looked Death right in the eye, the Horus eye, and then snapped his fingers. Immediately, as if from thin air, a ghostly horse appeared beside him. It was Hermosa, one of his favorite horses that had died years before during a raid.

"Do not do this," Death said, as El Papagayo mounted his old friend.

"I do not take orders from a woman. Not even Death herself," said El Papagayo, arrogantly. "And I am not quite finished on this Earth yet."

"No escaparás," Death said, almost in a whisper.

"Venir a buscarme, perra," said El Papagayo, smiling, then he took one of his ghostly pistols from its holster and fired a shot at her, which, of course, did nothing. El Papagayo didn't notice, however, as he was too busy giving a loud, high-pitched yell as his horse reared up on it's hind legs. Then it and its rider were off in a flash.

Death just stood there patiently allowing the bandito to escape.

"Here we go," she said to herself, and then started after him on foot.

 **To Be Continued**


	2. Chapter 2

The ghost of El Papagayo rode over the Rocky Mountains and then across the plains and desserts of several states beyond as if the devil himself was after him, when really it was just death _her_ self.

Few living people saw him on his journey, but those that did would forever tell tales of the spectral bandit that rode like the wind.

Finally, El Papagayo saw an old, abandoned saloon sitting next to a long forgotten road deep in the dessert and decided to stop there and let the ghost of his horse, Hermosa, rest, though she didn't really need it.

If anything, the stopover was more for El Papagayo's sake. It was a chance to get his head straight. After all, he really didn't have a plan or a destination- besides his final one- so this place seemed like as good as any for the time being.

The saloon had no name and only one swinging door left on its hinges. El Papagayo pushed it open dramatically after tying up Hermosa to a hitching post out front. Normally ghosts can't influence the physical world, but sometimes with old, abandoned places like the saloon, the rules become shaky. Places, like people and animals, can also be ghosts.

El Papagayo sauntered up to the dusty, empty bar as if he was in a Dodge City saloon, impressing all who looked upon him. There was no more liquor left, he was sad to see, but there was a few broken bottles sitting on the back shelf.

"No spirits here, I'm afraid," said a sophisticated man's voice, and El Papagayo turned suddenly and drew both of his ghostly pistolas.

"Unless of course, you count me," said the source of the voice. It was what appeared to be a white, three-piece suit complete with bow tie, top hat, and cape sitting at a dilapidated table in the corner. It even had a monocle where someone's eye would be, but there was no eye, or anything else either. The man wearing the suit was perfectly invisible.

"Please, do put your guns away, won't you? It's quite vulgar and really very useless as a matter of fact. You see I, much like yourself, am already dead, so there's little harm a gun could do to me anymore," said the suit, standing up and holding out its gloved hand to the outlaw.

"Allow me to introduce myself; Jim Craddock at your service, although I am also now known by many as simply Gentleman Ghost!"

El Papagayo holstered his pistols, but he didn't shake the ghost's hand. He didn't shake anyone's hand, especially someone who he couldn't threaten, murder, or extort in some way. As far as he was concerned, Jim Craddock was useless, so he turned his back on him and went over to a broken window instead. He wiped away some dust and grime from what little glass was left and looked out across the vast dessert landscape.

Jim Craddock wasn't put off by the Mexican's rudeness and decided to press on.

"Looking for something?" he asked. "Or someone perhaps?"

El Papagayo turned his beady eyes to the gentleman. He was clearly not going to go away and he seemed to have this whole being dead thing sorted out, El Papagayo thought, so maybe he could be of some use after all.

"I am on the run," he said in a cagey way.

"From?" asked Jim.

"She who all men run from," said El Papagayo.

"Ah," said Jim. "You're that kind of ghost."

"Qué coño significa eso?" El Papagayo said, becoming instantly angry.

"I'm assuming you just asked what I meant by that," said Jim, unfazed. "Allow me to explain. You see, I was rather unjustly shot down in my prime by a masked vigilante who completely misconstrued a situation involving myself and his lady love. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to me, the pair of them were two ancient souls locked in a never ending cycle of death and rebirth and due to the hilarious sense of humor belonging to the universe my soul was somehow entangled with theirs. I could not, excuse me, _cannot_ pass on into the great beyond until they do, and since, as I said, the cycle is never ending... well, you get the idea. Death explained the whole thing to me years ago in detail, but as I'm sure you'll find out, when your dead, little things tend to slip your mind over time."

El Papagayo stared at the phantom for a moment waiting to see if he'd continue. Eventually, he did.

"Yes, well, in your case it seems like your the type of ghost that plain old refuses to pass on. I've seen it before. In fact, there's a whole town full of ghosts not fifty miles west of here full of ghosts like yourself. Well, that's not entirely true, you see the town of Gold Gulch was once a prosperous mining town until it was hit by a sudden plague. Most of the residents died so quickly they didn't even know they were dead, and so, when Death came for them, they refused to go with her out of general principle. Why would someone who's not dead want to go to the afterlife?" Jim chuckled.

"Damn fools. I'd give anything to pass on," he said, wistfully. "No offense, of course," he said to El Papagayo, coming back down to Earth a bit. "I actually find men like you fascinating. It's just those sorry souls that stay out of ignorance that get me. I'm sure _you_ have your reasons for staying."

El Papagayo looked out the window again.

"I do now," he said, then he turned, pushed past Jim Craddock without so much as "move it" and went outside. He unhitched his horse, climbed on, and then spurred her onward towards the setting sun.

Jim just wandered patiently outside and watched him go. He stood there staring in that direction until darkness began to fall and a shadowy figure appeared out of the east. It was Death.

"Hello, Jim," she said, cordially.

Jim tipped his hat to her.

"I don't suppose you've seen a man on a horse ride by here lately," she said.

"This is the west, my dear. You'll have to be more specific I'm afraid," said Jim.

"A dead man," said Death.

"If I tell you, will you take me with you?" asked Jim.

"No," said Death. "But I also won't take you with me if you don't tell me, so why not make my job a little easier and do the poor guy a favor?"

"He went thataway," said Jim, pointing one of his gloved thumbs westward.

"You're a true gentleman," said Death, and she walked on.

 **To Be Continued**


	3. Chapter 3

Death wondered the desert for three days and three nights after El Papagayo's trail. In all that time she was only seen by one person; a young Sioux boy on a vision quest. After he saw Death he took it as a sign and went on to do many great things in his life.

But that's another story.

Meanwhile, El Papagayo was slightly ahead, riding towards the town of Gold Gulch.

"Heh, heh, heh," El Papagayo laughed to himself, "If thees town is truly a haven for the dead, then perhaps Death will not be able to find me there among the other ghosts."

Just then something whizzed by his ear and he immediately recognized the familiar sound of a bullet. He turned his head and saw three ghostly figures also on horseback barring down on him from behind. He only caught a glimpse before turning his attention back towards where he was heading, but it looked to him as if it was three men from his past. Former members of his gang, in fact.

The men fired their pistols again and El Papagayo expertly steered his horse out of their paths as he rode for his life. Then it occurred to him, what was he running from? He was already dead. Bullets posed no threat.

He immediately brought his horse to a stop and turned to face his pursuers. They were Paco, Juan and Rene Valdez, three brothers who had all met their end in service to him, one even at his own hand.

"Amigos! You must not recognize your old camarada. It is I, El Papagayo!" said El Papagayo, grandly as always.

"We recognize you just fine, serpiente, that's why we shot at you." said the one called Rene.

El Papagayo smiled.

"Why aren't you in the afterlife?" asked the one called Juan.

"Hell, specifically," added the one called Paco.

"I could ask you all the same thing," said El Papagayo to the three ghost brothers. "Apparently we are all natural born outlaws, even from death."

"We stayed on Earth to hunt you down," said Paco. "And now that we have found you I guess our unfinished business is over. Even though we didn't get the satisfaction of killing you ourselves."

"It was Jonah Hex, wasn't it?" said Juan with a laugh.

Now El Papagayo frowned.

"You be laughing out of the other side of your face soon enough," he said as menacingly as he could considering he was just a ghost.

He reached for his two pistols in order to point them threateningly at his former comrades, but found they were both gone. Unbeknownst to him they had fallen out of their holsters while he dodged the brother's bullets moments ago and they were currently buried under the desert sand not far away where they would stay for over a hundred years until they were one day found and used by Eli Stone, The Midnight Rider.

But that also is another story.

El Papagayo looked confused for a moment, then angry, then just shrugged and laughed.

"No matter," he said. Then to the brothers he said, "I tell you what; why don't we let bygones be bygones and once again combine our efforts."

"What do you possibly have to offer us that would make us want to rejoin you?" asked Juan. "You personally killed me and let my brothers die at the hands of the federales."

"Yes, yes, that is true," said El Papagayo. "And it is also true that you have nothing to gain by agreeing to my offer, but please remember, amigos, in death you have nothing to lose either. Do you really want to take your chance on the other side given the lives you've lead, or would you rather come with me and spend eternity out west doing what you always loved?"

"Explicar," said Rene.

"There is a town not far from here full of saps who do not realize they are dead. They will fear our ghostly bullets. They will fear everything about us the way all mortal men did once. And they'll do it forever too!"

The brothers all thought about this, which was a bit of a strain for all three of them. Paco rubbed his unshaven chin.

"That does sound appealing," he said finally. The other two nodded in agreement.

"Excelente!" said El Papagayo. "Then follow me before _she_ catches up to us. And two of you give me one of your extra pistols.

His men did as they were told and the four of them set out again in the direction of Gold Gulch with El Papagayo in the lead. Suddenly, after riding only a short distance, something whizzed past his head again, only this time it was larger than a bullet. It was a ghostly parrot and it landed on the outlaw's shoulder.

"Pepito, my little friend!" El Papagayo shouted with delight. "You stayed on Earth and waited for me like the faithful pet you are."

Pepito chirped happily and clenched El Papagayo's shoulder tightly in order to stay on as they galloped faster.

"Today is a day for reunion!" El Papagayo called out and he and his newly reformed ghost gang rode across the landscape towards their destination.

Close behind them, though, was Death.

Ever catching up.

 **To Be Continued**


	4. Chapter 4

The town of Gold Gulch sat alone and deserted in the middle of sandy nowhere, abandoned long ago after a plague wiped out half the population in under a week.

Still, for being a ghost town, it sure was active come sundown when all the ghosts of those dead townsfolk went about their usual business, blissfully unaware they had ever died.

In fact, by the time El Papagayo and his gang came thundering in after midnight, the place looked like a good old fashioned boomtown.

El Papagayo and his men whooped and yelled and shot off their guns as they rode around the town square, driving the locals into a panic.

"What's going on?" asked the town's ex-preacher as he came running out of his decrepit old church.

"Bandits!" screamed Miss Winslow, the schoolmarm, as she tried to shield some ghostly children from seeing the spectacle.

Finally, El Papagayo slowed his horse down to a trot and began to address the nearest crowd of frightened people.

"I am El Papagayo," he announced. "The most famous bandito in the west, and this town is now under my control. So eef you are smart you will submit now and hand over your money and jewelry to me and my men and we just might, just _might_ , leave all you in one piece."

His men began to ride around with sacks open as the townspeople dropped their valuables inside.

"Ah, now that's the smart theeng to be doing," El Papagayo said and he began to stroke his greasy mustache.

"Bawk! Bleed 'em dry!" squawked Pepito, El Papagayo's parrot.

El Papagayo laughed menacingly and his men joined in as their victims around them cowered and shook.

Finally, after what felt like ten minutes, the madness suddenly stopped when a lone, dark figure appeared at the end of Gold Gulch's main street. Her legs were spread like a gunfighter's as she approached her adversary.

"El Papagayo," Death shouted, "I'm calling you out, hombre."

Everyone turned to see her there, then they all turned to see El Papagayo's reaction. He just smirked.

"You're wasting your time, chica," said El Papagayo. "It would be better spent pursuing those who want you. Me and this town are none of your concern."

"No town concerns me more than this one," said Death, "And no soul should leave this Earth more than you right now."

El Papagyo squinted his already beady eyes.

"Make me," he said defiantly.

Death squinted her eyes right back at him, trying, and failing, to look anything but compassionate.

"I can't," she said finally. "I can't _make_ anyone."

"Then be gone with you," El Papagayo said, laughing at her ineffectualness and anti-climactic response.

"And what, you'll just stay here and torment these poor people?" asked Death.

El Papagayo nodded. "Til the end of time," he said.

Death gave him a look of pity and then gave the same look to the townspeople of Gold Gulch and the men that made up El Papagayo's gang and even Pepito and the horse, Hermosa.

"This is my last attempt to reason with you," she said, solemnly to El Papagayo. "You'd be far better off in the afterlife. Believe me. You see, the trouble with being an ghost is that you're never the only one, and one day you may meet another far scarier and more powerful than yourself and no one on this Earth will be able to help you then."

For the first time in his death the cocky smile on El Papagayo's face slipped, but still he said to Death, "I am staying."

She shrugged and then without ceremony she disappeared quietly into the darkness of the night.

There was a weird quiet as everyone waited to see what would happen next. Then the silence was broken by El Papagayo firing his gun into the air and giving a loud yell. His men followed suit and the people of Gold Gulch commenced running and hiding from the criminals attacking their town.

And so this same scenario played out again, and again, and again. Night, after night, after night, for over a hundred years until one day when an alien, a bounty hunter, and a photographer came to town.

But that too is another story.

 **The End**


End file.
